What is Ours
by Stephane Richer
Summary: Still, for each of them basketball is a deeply personal thing, something they have mixed feelings about. It's not something they share, nor is it something they often think about or talk about when they're together


What is Ours

Disclaimer: Don't own

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They've never played basketball against one another; the last time they were on the same court in uniform was middle school, that easy basket for that perfect score, those five ones in a row like the five individuals who'd made it—and since then they've gotten further and further apart in the basketball world, teams always ending up in different brackets for every tournament, one of them always losing too early.

In a way, it's fitting. In theory at least, Midorima would have no problem playing basketball against Atsushi—it would be a challenge, sure, but he likes challenges, likes figuring them out (and really, there's no one who knows Atsushi's body better than he does, not even Atsushi himself because he doesn't bother to pay all that much attention). Sure, they're dating, but Midorima's faced off against people close to him (he's hesitant to call some of them friends really) before and personal issues haven't really gotten in the way of either his or his opponent's games. And Midorima trusts Atsushi enough to know that he wouldn't treat a game against Midorima and Shutoku any differently than he would any other game (he probably wouldn't bring his a-game, but he rarely does, one of the items on the endless list of things Atsushi does that annoy Midorima).

Still, for each of them basketball is a deeply personal thing, something they have mixed feelings about. It's not something they share, nor is it something they often think about or talk about when they're together. It's funny, isn't it? One would expect that two top players would talk about basketball all the time with one another, especially when they played together for three years, when they met one another through basketball, when the sport weaves itself into almost every facet of their lives. Of course, they think about it sometimes, as they fall asleep together, Atsushi's fingers twitching as if to shoot an invisible ball, Midorima's hips wanting to swerve to avoid some collision that only exists in his mind. And sometimes they do not make the motions, instead both ruminating on their ambivalence to basketball, hands intertwined.

But it's better that they don't face each other, don't have a score between them, because once it's there it will never be settled. Midorima shivers and Atsushi's arm curls around him. Lips soft from the soda he's been drinking all evening push aside his bangs to press against his forehead.

In the end, basketball will leave them, perhaps slowly but perhaps suddenly. It is, Midorima decides, better not to think about this. Of course, not thinking about it will not delay this parting, will not stop it, but thinking about it will not help, either. It is this type of thinking, of simply letting things go, that is typical of Atsushi—it fascinates Midorima. It's hard for him to not just feel helpless as he struggles against failure that may be inevitable, hard for him to stop struggling and move on. Atsushi picks his battles (seemingly at random, though they do have a peculiar logic to them that's unique to Atsushi). He says he doesn't understand how Midorima has the energy to be so contrary (Midorima cannot decide whether Atsushi's bluntness is annoying or endearing, and this is definitely a tick on the annoying side).

Sometimes in his sleep, Atsushi's hands curl around Midorima's bare hip like it's a basketball, leaving empty space between the middle joint on his fingers and Midorima's hand because Midorima's hip is not quite round enough, too square and trim to be an actual basketball. Atsushi's fingers release him, pushing him away, and he hates this touch. Midorima does not want to be just basketball to Atsushi. Some mornings he wakes up on the other side of the bed, covers thrown off, still-sleeping Atsushi on the other side and hands closed around an empty rim and he knows exactly what happened, what made his subconscious reject his lover's hands.

Midorima wonders if he does the same kind of thing, wonders if Atsushi notices and if he feels the same way Midorima does, how he responds. Does he just let it go? Is this something he can let go? If anything, he seems to realize what he's doing unconsciously. He always asks Midorima if he's okay, gives him extra kisses and sends him twice the normal amount of text messages (though they're still the same no-content emoticons and rambling and "i miss u" as always, and Midorima's not sure if they're annoying or not because he's got unlimited texting but it's so hard hiding the smile that threatens to spread across his face when he gets another one).

Sometimes, they don't talk for days. They're not too busy per se (how busy do you have to be to be completely unable to make a five-minute phone call or send a text message or short e-mail?) but it's just that they have nothing to say. But eventually Atushsi gets lonely and calls him and asks him to just talk so he can hear Midorima's voice or tries to sext Midorima, which just doesn't work with his run-on sentences and terrible grammar (how does he get good grades again? Does he actually write his schoolwork normally?) and besides, Midorima's in class most of the time (so maybe he's lucky that the texts are not very seductive in and of themselves) and it's absolutely not appropriate.

They're both so large that there's really no room for anyone or anything in their relationship, let alone something as expansive and abstract as basketball. Atsushi can't sit in those forward-facing bus seats because his legs are too long and they both have to duck under low door frames and in rooms with low ceilings. Their arms reach things improbably, reach across distances to find the other's, are strong enough to come together, meeting in the middle of some kind of bridge.

Atsushi eats Midorima's food from his fingers, never interested when the food involves some kind of utensil. He just craves contact, wants to see the way Midorima blushes but still attempts to hold his gaze, the way Midorima's wet fingers trail across his jaw after his mouth releases them before he realizes he has to be mad because that was his oatmeal cookie, damn it! And then he gets caught up in being mad and it's all back to normal, but Atsushi's gotten good at tuning out this part. He just waits for Midorima to finish his lecture, although if he things it's getting long and boring he'll kiss Midorima to shut him up. Funny how after that Midorima doesn't give him a lecture about kissing.


End file.
